


Stay With Me

by TheWanderingLost



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, think Pride and Prejudice meets Nanny McFee crossed with a fairytale murder mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingLost/pseuds/TheWanderingLost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Historical AU. Concept: Pride and Prejudice meets Nanny McFee, but with less magic and more murder. </p><p>Change is coming to Holmes Manor in the form of the estranged Aunt Petunia. The cause of her arrival; three young Holmes' by the names of Sherrinford, Sherlock, and Enola - along with their unfortunate affinity for trouble. </p><p>When his way of life and the memory of his mother seem all but lost, Sherlock meets John in an apple tree. The mystery and murder that follows him is all too intriguing to be left alone. </p><p>But what good can come from all of this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I probably shouldn't be starting yet another one, but it seems I can't help myself :)
> 
> This is one I've been thinking about for a while, inspired by the stories mentioned above and the music video to the song 'Stay With Me' by You Me At Six. I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it

"Your children need a woman in the house, someone to guide them in the ways of etiquette and chivalry."

  
"Mrs. Hudson-"

  
"Is the housekeeper. They need a woman who knows the ins and outs of the higher classes of society, Siger. Surely you want only the best for them?"

  
"Of course, but-"

  
"Then it's settled, I'll return at the end of the month with my things from Kendall Hall."

  
"You? Petunia, don't you think- well, I mean-"

  
"Yes, me. Obviously. Well, who else do you think is better suited to the job? I am their Aunt, and it is my duty to Violet - my poor sister, God rest her soul - to make sure her children are ready for life outside of their home."

  
"If you believe you know best..."

  
"Of course. Of course. I know how hard this must be for you, it's been almost 10 years since she passed. But I do feel this is necessary, for the children to succeed in life. The poor dears have been without a mother figure for so long, I don't know why I haven't thought of this before."

  
There was the sound of shoes clacking on floor boards as Aunt Petunia made her way to the study's door, and the three children hiding on the other side backed away, ready to make a break for it. But just as the door knob began to turn, she was stopped.

  
"Before you go, Petunia... Why now, of all times?" There was a moment of silence, and the only thing stopping the children from sneaking to safety was the answer to the very question they'd been wondering themselves.

  
"Oh, well. Mycroft is all grown up now, and he's turned out alright - looks so much like his mother - but the others... I'd thought I'd give them a hand. Good-day, Siger. I'll write ahead to let you know when I'll arrive."

  
With her rush of departing words, she quickly opened the door and strode down the corridor before Siger Holmes had any chance to reply. The children went unnoticed; carefully hidden, and still listening, behind the door of the adjacent room. Sharing a look of dissatisfaction at the hurried answer, they crack the door open to peek down the corridor, ready to make a quiet get away at the sound of their Aunt's departure. The same voice interrupts their escape, too.

  
"I know you're there, you three. Come in here." Their Father sighed as the children shuffled in, not looking nearly guilty enough for having listened in on the conversation.

  
Siger was still sat behind his desk, where he had been going through his businesses' biannual review when Petunia had suddenly burst in with her, well, proposition. She'd exclaimed that she had to be quick: she was on her way to have tea with Lady Adler, and couldn't be at all late.

  
She'd been insistent, and Siger new from experience that, when his sister-in-law got an idea in her head, there was no stopping her. He wasn't sure how long her escapade would last, but if he was honest with himself, very honest, perhaps the children could do with some education in the matter. His business kept him busy, and he simply didn't have the time to go to balls and dinners, never mind bring the boys with him. God knows they'd both cause some trouble. Not to say that they weren't lovely, oh no. Siger cherished each one of his four children, they were treasures in their own right. But Sherlock and Sherrinford... they didn't seem to get on well together. Better that Petunia help them, than let them embarrass themselves. Not to mention little Enola, still so young.

  
He looked at his three children, stood in order of height and age before him. Rubbing at the tension head ache forming on his brow, he sat back in his chair. However, before he could speak, Sherlock finally burst.

  
"You can't let Aunt Petunia stay here."

  
Siger huffed a laugh at his son's outburst, the boy's face screwed into a frown as if the very thought of Aunt Petunia disturbed him. Sherlock was scowled at by Sherrinford from one side, who gripped his arm in warning, and given a worried look by Enola from his other. Sherlock splutters at their expression and shakes his arm loose but carries on, outraged. "But you- she- She's vile."

  
Their Father frowned at this, "Do not speak of your Aunt in such a manner. She's being very generous and has done nothing wrong to warrant such an opinion."

  
"Father-"

  
"Sherlock, enough." He sighed again, ran a hand through his greying hair, and moved to sit on the front of his desk. Sherlock was now glaring out the window, ever defiant and wanting to prove he's right. How to break it lightly that this is partly why he allowed their Aunt to carry on with the idea? Any such words would surely offend them. But, yet again, one of his children beat him to it. This time, though, it wasn't Sherlock.

  
"You think she's right." Enola looked up at her Father, the statement is clearly that - a statement. She'd worked it out on her own, the little cherub. Just as intelligent as her older brothers, just like her Mother. A wash of sadness flooded through Siger: how he wished Violet could see her children now.

  
Sherlock glanced at Enola out of the corner of his eye, his mouth tugged into a smile, gone just as fast as it came; if you blinked, you'd have missed it. He was very proud of his little sister, much more so than he was of either of his elder brothers. Mycroft had up and deserted them before Sherlock was thirteen years of age, moved to London to be a politician, of all things. The pompous git. Not to mention Sherrinford, who was, unfortunately, still hanging around. He was a suck up, more than anything else; so nice and polite and caring and "such a gentleman," to the people he met. Sherlock honestly couldn't decide who he hated most.

  
It was Sherrinford who stepped forward, trying to salvage a situation he thought was rapidly deteriorating. "Both of you, be quiet. Father, I'm so sorry about their behaviour-"

  
Sherlock had begun to roll his eyes, but at the mention of Enola's inclusion, he turned his glare to his brother. "Her behaviour? Enola hasn't done or said anything wrong, Sherrinford. Just because your nine year old sister is cleverer than you, that doesn't mean-"

  
"I never said that, Sherlock! Why do you always jump to conclusions before I've finished speaking-"

  
"Because I know what you're going to say, and obviously-"

  
"ENOUGH, the two of you." Father bellowed over them, making Enola jump. They ceased their fighting, turning to stare straight ahead. Sherlock felt a little guilty at making Father shout like that, but to hell if he ever showed it and Sherrinford picked up on it. "Your Aunt is coming to stay with us at the end of the month," Father continues. "You will do as she says, you will treat her with respect. If I hear either of you even breathe a bad word about her, you will both be punished. Is that clear?"

  
"Yes, Father," the children chorused, and they watched as their Father moved back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. It was now ruffled, a little out of order from its usual tidy state.

  
"I do love you, all of you. Just try to get along, please." Neither of them dared say a word, but they nodded when Father looked up at them, understanding. "Alright, go on then. You can go."

  
Sherrinford was out the door first, followed closely by Sherlock, who paused when he realised Enola wasn't following. Behind him, Enola walked towards her Father, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and exited the room with them.

  
Siger greatly appreciated the olive branch, and looked to the door after his children. The coming months were going to interesting, to say the least.


End file.
